. She sleeps in her rose wood bed,
under a blanket of velvet red;
old and alone and forgotten,
she dreams of the love she once had.
Once again she recalls his caress
on the curve of her hips
and her breast
as he moved his bow
on the strings of her soul,
playing her sound
'til his passion was spent.
They traveled the whole world over,
to every city and town;
the maestro, his bow and violin,
bringing each curtain down.
He died in a cry of sweet refrain,
clutching her strings to his heart;
as he fell to the floor in a final encore,
tearing her world apart.
So she sleeps in her rose wood bed,
under a blanket of velvet red;
her strings still filled
with the song of her soul,
etched by the maestro
that loved her
so long ago!
Author: Elaine George
Copyright © Elaine George | Year Posted 2006
You go down like rain,
A wishing star in disguise,
You scream bloody murder
-the perfect two face disgrace
Your lips forever stain and reside with Benedict A
Your eyes hide the truth, like a lost domain in space
Darling, that will never cut what bleeds from a mother's heart
My precious doll, your feathers are mourning like a flightless dove
Is this to be love, standing there while I fall apart
Our younger years, display nothing but love,
Like the wonder years, you will remain more precious than a gem
From one betrayal to another, a heart colder than winters zone
That never counts as failure, when it comes to unconditional love
Darling, the pain and secrets were never yours to absorb alone
"My sweet darling, Let me hold you once more!"
My beautiful girl, the nights grow random like sin
Your mind's fast at switching grapes on a vine
Fault, from a mother to son, too much exposure from the sun
Insanity and sin remain, from a mother to her daughter
Soaking in salt that protects me from a loaded gun
A shameful way to sunbathe your skin like a shooting star
My beautiful daughter, you put my heart behind bars
My dearest cry baby, you're all grown up these days
Sweetheart, I don't see you going home
These towels will not dry
The feeling of fresh flowers from the center core
Your man-made drama spreads through every walkway
Allowing darkness to reach the floor
-- Once again the sun, has revealed your Judas like tan
Your tears have flowed, one too many times
Here we are, covering every bruise
Raising every brow in hope everything's gone
Darling, no one will love you like I do
I whisper your name and wish life had nothing to misplace
Sweet darling, your eyes are rolling dice
A low roll of dominoes misleading everyone the wrong way
This time I can't cover your mistake with a blanket,
My little darling, you have gone too far
Your paper dolls aren't cutting smiles from this frown
I've always known your the Iscariot,
Selling your soul for a mere quarter
These tears were never yours to sell for at the end
Our sins will have more weight than a thousand pounds of amber
My beautiful darling, I forgive you every day,
I want you to know, I'm Sorry about the things I had to enunciate
I don't understand how easily you trampled our bed of roses
Carrying over the moon in your treason white gown
Darling, Mommy wants you to understand
The voice of reason was for your own good
The knife in my back is rusted
The father clock continues to stand still
Sweet child, the allusion you left behind faded long ago
Contradicting your life with your infamous pretty face logo
My dearest cry baby!
Why the tan lotion, where's your sense of guilt?
Is this another game of child's play?
Darling, it's time to put them toys away
"My Sweet Darling, I need to hold you once more."
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2014
“For in your light I dream, as evening takes my hand”
Silently I find my thoughts illumined by your beauty
In soft shimmers of dancing silhouettes
and patterns allowing far away breaths to sigh
Eyes peer into velvet skies,
visions set in motion eternally, find me stranded of this
distance we share, north to south, longing for you
Desperate for but a breeze, a movement of shadow,
a hope of wishes made upon the early arrival
of this crested view
Lonely among the maples, towering soldiers
lined at fielded boundaries, claiming wisdom
as they too reach for your smile
“And I yearn the knowledge of your distant view”
Do you think, do you feel, do you dream of me
from balconies high above hibiscus footpaths,
candle lit in passing moments which flicker, enchant
Drinking from a porcelain cup caressed by your hand,
a touch my body pleads, soft fingers on smooth surroundings,
ripples following moonlight sonatas,
days of spring blooms and whimsical showers,
flooding affections to wash over me,
carry me to you
This moon, suspended in charcoal heavens
upon a beaded blanket of perfect pearls,
beckons our dreams in simultaneous fashion
“Does your heart share this moon tonight, with me”
Written for the Long Distance Love - Poetry Contest
Copyright © Chris Green | Year Posted 2016
A lost guardian angel, sitting on the edge of everything
I push my shopping cart along the cracks of destiny
My house sits on the corner of every mission street
My tin coffee cup feeds on caring heartbeats
My possession is the icon of war, six missing buttons
Navy and white my grandfathers 70-yr-old military tunic.
My Jacket- My blanket
My Jacket from which I am inseparable
My Jacket - represents the mobility of life
This Jacket is my home.
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013
descending on the twilight streets;
Snow, in silent fields you lie pristine
beneath moon’s glow, a blanket shimmering.
Tranquilly envelop me in
the more you fall, the deeper that I go
Oh, sweet Slumber,
suffocate with pearly flakes
those of us the weary that repose,
long time having waited like the windrows.
As Boreas does blow,
lull and bury all in drifting, dreamy
Writer's Statement: In this poem, I have gone ahead and given a title that shows both the theme of nature and what it is a metaphor of. I think it just "sounds" better to write "Snow-a sleep" and then in the second half, I reverse it and write "Sleep - a snow." I think of sleep as a wonderful time when we can totally let go of our tensions and relax as if we were beneath "moon's glow" in "a blanket shimmering" We literally are under our blankets when we sleep, and in the same way that snow covers the ground, our dreams are blanketing us in "oblivion serene." In the middle of the poem, I liken "falling to sleep"to when snow keeps falling and falling and we, like falling snow, go "deeper" into slumber. I like the sound of "sweet Slumber" together, and so I address sleep that way toward the end of this poem. In the same way that snow buries the ground, the "pearly flakes" of sleep can "lull and bury all in drifting, dreamy snow."
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2015
Distant prayers echo through a lilac sky
light flickers brilliantly in angelic eyes
a yellow crocheted blanket falls to the floor
and a growing heart winks inside.
Kindness breeds kindness in a precious heart
and a kindred spirit lifts and flies free.
helping our fellow man in need
forgiving selflisness and greed
Open up your heart and mind
another child feeds a hungry soul
for one who loves to love, the greatest
blessing of all, is seeing the one you love, love
Whisper soft into the night my dire want
let the rains wash down a growing grace
carry off grandeur into a sequel led estate
as a simple smile adorns a very humble face
Copyright © Tim Smith | Year Posted 2017
NATURE’S WONDERFUL GARDEN
Nature’s wonderful garden in display
display of autumn colours in array
array of beauty to share in delight
delight of birds in a picturesque sight.
Sight of swans as they fly above the ground
ground that is covered by leafs as if gowned
gowned by a blanket of colourful hue
hue of earth moistened by a misty dew.
Dew that reflects sunlights shimmering light
light that wakes up into a morning bright
Bright is the dawn as a new day ascends
ascends to where the earth and heaven blends.
Nature and seasons in a divine bliss
bliss of life and beauty to reminisce.
My first attempt at writing a chained sonnet.
Copyright © Teppo Gren | Year Posted 2016
Where gladiators fought for life,
we meet to fight for love
The constellations in the Roman night sky,
celestial spectators, bathe the Colosseum
in the white blood of light
The night is throbbing with the heat of our battle,
our cries, more passionate than any that have gone before
A short while earlier
A well paid bribe found us in the remains of the Ludus Magnus,
the remains of the old Gladiator School in Rome
where lies buried
a hidden entrance to an underground tunnel
You pull me with you into dark underground world of legend
By light of a flickering torch,
we travel into the entrails of the behemoth,
coming in time upon the holding rooms
My breath catches
I hear the sounds of man and beast
carrying through the thin layers of time:
Slaves, criminals, debtors, all awaiting their fate…
Animals pawing, grunting, starved for food
Dying to kill to stave the gnawing pain
Waiting to be lifted up into the arena
Waiting to fight
Waiting to live or die
We break into the hypogeum
The crispness of the night air stings us
The vastness of it all paralyzes all thought
Rome comes ALIVE
The resurrection of history enflames us,
and as we mount those final stairs up to the arena,
I feel your excitement blazing through me
Your grasp is almost painful in jubilee
“We are here…HERE!” Your voice is laced with the sacred.
Between those famed arches…XIX and XX
You and I all and 50,000 ghost spectators
Here at the East Entrance
The Gate of Life Looms above us
True gladiators passed through these very gates
Here the applause coursed through their veins
And thundered to the captives below…
Here I stand
Quivering with the knowledge of all this night means to me
That thunder reverberates through MY body
I can hardly breathe
Your eyes are looking up at tiered levels
while mine look ahead
There is the walkway connecting the east to west
At the far side is the Libitinarian, the Gate of Death,
through which dead gladiators were dragged,
their bodies dumped in the Spoliarium
to be stripped of clothes and armor
Life and death
Here, they converged
Here, they fought
On this night
I will strip myself of my clothing and armor
I will let down my defenses
and give in to your onslaught of passion
Here… I will die to all but your eyes
I walk, quietly, with purpose
Here….in this place...
my virgin blood will be spilt
Halfway between life and death, I stop
I turn towards you
My voice reaches you on the night wind
“Come to me!”
I see you move towards me
My mighty gladiator
You who have fought my demons
You who have slain my nightmares
You who have held in check
A savage desire for possession
As you stand before me
I wonder if you know
Tonight is the night
You will plunder and ravage
to your heart's delight
your just reward
You find a place to keep the torch upright
You see the blanket I’ve spread on the ground
I answer the question in your eyes
With the curve of my lips
I steady my hands as they work to undress me
I feel my body burn in the warmth of your presence
Your eyes undress me faster than my hands can,
and yet... you are....immovable
You stand transfixed
You wait until my only covering
Is my flowing hair
"Make love to me
Here, now...be my gladiator
Come...claim your prize."
I reach out my hand to you
and in a moment
before my next intake of breath
you've come to life and crush me in your arms
Your mouth claims mine
like never before
your tongue explores
it takes what it will
You pull me in to you
Your hand in my hair,
my breath is raptured by your sheer strength
Your mouth travels along my neck
Hungry….like a famished animal finally set free to feast
You devour as you reach my cleavage
I lean back to let you savor my breasts
For the first time
You’re down on your knees
your tongue encircling my navel
going round and round and dipping inside
This prophetic dance of what is to come
washes over me
as you lower me to the ground
In a moment, I’m looking at the stars
The two brightest ones being your eyes
You are above me
You are everywhere
Kissing tasting touching feeling pleasing
Finding my voice, I pant...
I’m gasping with the effort
of all I need to say...
of the weight of feelings...
raging within me
"Don't...hold back anymore
Your hands reach for mine and pin them down
My breasts heave, my body rocks
as I feel you plunging into the moistness
that your very presence always creates in me
But never...to this luxuriant degree
Pain mixes with pleasure again and again
As I hear your grunt and groan
Your ecstasy comes in manish moan
And I close my eyes to the Roman night sky
To the world
I am reborn in you
I hear your victory cry
And feel your jubilant release inside
They fought for life
We fought for love
My fingers run through your hair
Your head is pillowed on my breast
My heart beat a reminder
Of what you have won
A gladiator’s reward...
in the arms
of the woman
For Justin Bordner’s Contest
Make Love to Me in that Ancient Place
November 16, 2014
Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2014
These eyes have often been solaced
by twilight's cotton candy pllows moving silently
towards a sky's velveteen blanket
and angels'silver gowns
By gazing over hills
to where old country church bells
and crickets play harmonious sounds
These eyes have often been solaced
by honey coloured shadows
pouring moonlight zest
across the rose plum of my cheek
By little antique lamplights
which illuminate my soul 's dark cobbled street
By winds carrying sea-salts to a fragrant golden sand
By tides washing out corals to a distant land
These eyes have often been solaced by your return
to this vacant room inside my heart
By the hush hushed whisper of your voice
By the embrace of your arms
By the way you love me
By the way you need me
By the way you want me
Like an autumn bonfire
before next sunrise'dew fall
By the way you lean on me
Copyright © Charmaine Chircop | Year Posted 2014
Fall glides in on the wings
of migrating monarchs,
stained glass visions seeking respite
from a tedious journey
signaling a change in our surroundings
Blushing, the complexion of November
slips from swimsuit informalities
to fawn layered outfits of earth tone lace
Singing of cool breeze melodies
on chrysanthemum dance steps
Sweetly autumn reaches,
filling every part of my heart
collecting at my feet like fallen leaves
Swirling about me on winds of fleece lined affection
tickling fancies and coaxing smiles
Maple syrup hues cling to pumpkin seed desires,
painting pathways in tinted curves,
outlined in kaleidoscope siftings,
champagne ribbons winding
to stroll with the one you adore
warm of passion’s enduring flame
a’ glow on shade drawn windows
and pine needle temptations
floating of chilled evening whispers
Wrapped in my arms, hot cider dreams
gather amidst comforting aromas,
weaving scented shadows neath wool blanket motions
and as the season changes, so do I…
I fall more in love with you
Copyright © Chris Green | Year Posted 2016
The Library of Trust and Hope
The Bank of Trust and Hope
(Cant decide on title, so feel free to pick or suggest one)
She was all but four years of age
Birthdays were such magical moments
The cake was filled with candles
The balloons still in their package twelve on the table
Daddy daddy, I can not fill these balloons!!
They are not magic like you said!!!!!
Do not fret Maria, its daddy who is magical
I shall help you little one, let me see those balloons
Sure enough daddy blew up twelve white and pink balloons
Maria was in awe at daddy’s magical powers
She knew her daddy would fight dragons to bring her but a smile
Maria knew she was safe in daddy's arms, oh what a birthday this will be
Maria was now ten years older
Fourteen years old and already filled with so many happy memories
On this fall day, home from school
There was grandpa in the back yard as usual
He was tending his garden of roses
When she was younger, he told her they were magical roses
Grandma would speak to him in his magical garden
From the heavens above
Now at eighteen, daydreaming in a coffee shop
A stranger picks up a rose from an empty table
A smile oozing in charm, stares into her eyes
This is for you, beauty for beauty
She was swept off her feet, in a whirlwind romance
They danced and dined, it seemed all on her dime
Until the morning she awoke, completely alone
Both lover and credit cards did abscond
Now twenty one, and wise to the world
Absorbed in her studies, somewhat colder than one should be for that age
A chilly fall day in an empty library
A stranger comes, giving her a drawing of a red rose
Hello he says! I drew this for you!
Oh no she thinks to herself, not another one!
Politely she smiles and replies thank-you, but I am taken
This stranger smiles right back and says, the drawing is for you no matter
The next week, and the weeks after, the same routine
He comes to her with a drawing of another beautiful rose
She politely declines his advances
Maria knows that a rose, has a stem, and that comes with pricks
The twelfth week and here he is again
What is the poor girl to do?
She is curious, and she can not quite help herself
She asks, from what do you draw such beautiful flowers?
He smiles kindly and replies
How about next week, I show you?
We can have a coffee, and discuss art
Hesitating she just can not say no to this simple gesture of kindness
They are walking along, and surprisingly she finds herself
Quite intrigued with the ease of their conversation
He takes hold of her hand, and says I live over there, the house in red
She has no time to object as he pulls her forward to the backyard
She stares in absolute shock and awe at what appears before her
Why its the most beautiful, wonderful, enchanting English garden she ever saw
You? she stammers, you made this?
He smiles shyly and says; well now you know what inspires my drawings
Now Maria is eighty and filled with both happiness and sadness
Her husband of all these years has passed on
To be with all his precious roses in the heavens waiting
She sits in their garden, remembering a life time of memories
She picks a single rose, and inhales its fragrance
Contemplating the wisdom's of life
I miss you so much my love
You taught me trust is earned and not given
Your love was my blanket of happiness, wait for me my love,
I am yours eternally
I was lucky in life to have had a good upbringing. My daddy, showered me with love, but most of all he taught me that gifts were not objects, balloons were not magical, nor was he. I learned that what was magical is the time and effort he took to love me, and protect me and those memories I so cherish, but they also he showed me the values I hold dear in myself and those around me.
Then there was dear old grandpa. His garden was his passion, and I suspect that if I could have had more time to spend with him, it was really grandma’s passion, and after her passing, this was the activity that kept him close to her soul. In that respect, I guess it was truly a magical garden. Whenever he saw me, his eyes would light up, he would pour lemonades and he told me such wonderful stories. Unlike many though, he listened to all my troubles and told me, that in life I had to learn some things the hard way, but that he himself knew for a certainty that I would find the love and happiness, that as a young women, I felt would be lost to me forever.
I re-tell my story for all the people out there that have lost trust in others, or have lost hope in humanity. You may have your heart stolen for awhile, someone can bring you sadness, but never let them steal your soul. Learn that trust is earned, not given, and never punish the rest of the world, for your bad experience, for ultimately it is you who suffers most. Be giving, kind and generous, with a strong will and mind. If someone does not respect you, then they shall never earn your trust, and that’s how it should be. Be wise, be prudent, be safe, but most of all be open to love and kindness
Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2015
"Soft defense is driven by my thoughts,
I vanish away into yesterday’s scenic road,
Set the mood among the dark clouds,
Wish I could go back to the night, of fourteen and cold.
Tell me not to look up and cover myself with the world.
Sorry I could not stay,
One too many excuses & lies,
To where they never fixed themselves;
I could not handle the air,
I had to breathe right the cold nights that followed.
I stood as one in love, under the starry sky…
Young and alone, I left the never-ending vindictive feeling.
The dust slept every reason inside my soul.
I travel the world, snoozing with the magic of the sand.
Stars that echo and drop twinkles to my walking toes.
The horizon was my blanket and shield
Where the light and night I wore,
Accelerating, escaping no more justification!
"Oceans of excuses sailed through my soul,
Heartbroken, but in love with defiance toward the stardust novelty.
With a sigh!
I hesitate not to look back,
Somewhere the ages turn to rust:
Old and grey, all alone,
The leaves I stepped on then are trample and gone.
One day I shall return for the proper goodbye.
For now, I must travel down this lonely road silently.
Slowly my heart will heal itself, nurturing the frozen sleet away.
Releasing the 14-year old girl at last,
In a body a mind and soul,
Confronting her with an, I BELONG HELLO!”
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012
thick blanket of snow
snuggling the flowerbeds
with a winter wrap
6th October 2014
Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2014
Within the warmth of home, I sit amazed
at the gentle fall of snow through window pane.
Cup of tea in hand, my layered thoughts unchain,
and tumble from the tip of tongue unfazed
to land upon a pristine page appraised,
aided by the silent fall through snowy pane.
Oh, the soft white wintry glow 'pon the lane
leaves a graceful drape, Lord be praised.
Within the warmth of home, I muse on themes
of days to come and those gone bye and so,
I thank the Lord for all of nature's schemes,
for the gift of time, for peace, and for the snow.
Oh, make the blanket deep, I wish to dream,
may all my days and 'morrows have this glow.
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2013
Living amid the blurred lines of my reflections
Stark cold fears snow me blanket my resolve
Nestled my leafless core begging for rebirth
Patches of life clumped to the reality of what is what was
Soul penetrating every doubt of self worth
Raw exposure of glory days forgone
Dreams engulf the rapture of greener pastures
Revealed in roots embedded firmly in my foundation
Seeds flourish branches extend and trunks stand firm
Copyright © Carol B. | Year Posted 2016
“Look up at the stars,” you say
Its just another night up on the old water tank
Our blanket is spread and here we sit with the universe our theater
Another night of showing me the constellations
The stars….your hobby
I try to follow your pointing finger
I try so hard to see them, those legends in your night sky
Hercules and Orion
You breathe out the names in sacred tones of awe
The constellations come alive, thundering across the sky
Celestial history of time
But the only stars I see shine in your eyes
your masculine grace
the beauty of your face
your inner glow that shames this night star show
you take my breath away...
And all I know on this night
is that I want to slide down the handle of the Big Dipper with you
And splash into the waters of passion
Drenched in the liquid light of your love
“You’re not listening…” you reprimand gently
as you look at me
I can’t speak
You touch my cheek
“What is it?”
And my voice is still
as I struggle to find the will
to make you see
all that you mean to me
I rise to my feet
Trembling, I speak...
“I will not let ….the stars outshine MY love for you
That’s…all you see
now taste my jealousy"...
Your upturned face moves me beyond inhibitions..
My hands overcome the shyness
my stuttering voice belies
They start to undress me
“I am…your earth bound Virgo
But I will no longer be your virgin...
My blouse flutters to the ground
and my hands move to my skirt
"Make me your Andromeda, your chained lady
Yes….wrap yourself around me
Bind me with your love
Be my hungry Leo, thirsty with desire
And I will play the part of Aquarius… a water bearer of love”
And my undergarments….along with my skirt, fall all around me
Naked, I lower myself onto your lap
I straddle you
as the Milky Way straddles the night sky
And now….I am all you see
Your star struck eyes now focus on me
Wonder fills them as they take in my breasts
Full and taut with desire
for the first time revealed
I feel your fire
“Yes, you cannot touch celestial orbs, but touch these...
Touch me...taste me....I'm here
And let my throbbing full moon
Covered now with a mantle chaste
Reveal itself to your touch
I want you so much...
Yes, I'm here"...
And you fondle and taste
and you fiercely embrace
In my virgin blush
the stars hush
they hush to the sound of your name
that comes from my lips in bursts of new pleasure
time stands still to in the wake of this thrill
and my universe comes to be
birthed within your release
Trembling in my arms you speak
In a voice awed and weak
"My universe...is you
The stars fall silent...their voice is hushed
you say my name.
You hush the stars with my name"
February 24, 2015
Copyright © Eileen Manassian | Year Posted 2015
in the East
so long ago
A heavenly light
that guided wise men
to the place where He lie
In a manger on a blanket of hay
* * * * *Christ -Immanuel - a radiant child - a gift from God* * * * *
His only son who died on a cross
for teaching us to love and
help one another
for this is
Copyright © Elaine George | Year Posted 2009
Look up! Snowflakes appear in streetlights
Hear children cheer as snow days are announced
Watch the powder fly during snowball fights
Listen as faith through joyful hymns is pronounced
Join snow angel brigades while on wintery landscapes we pounce
Walk briskly with me through the winter woods
Where boughs of evergreens droop with white frost
Don your boots and pull up your jacket hood
Let’s slide on the lake until our energies exhaust
Then trudge back home as snow drifts are crossed
Place damp clothes on a chair by the fireside
Pour a glass of wine and snuggle with me
Whispers of passion, ‘neath a blanket confide
Lights from the fir tree fill our hearts with glee
As you offer me your ring on bended knee
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2010
Listen to poem:
tapping on my windows' pain—
white blanket in tow
Hurting enough, I paid him no mind
so he kept tap, tap, tapping
‘til cobweb-like cracks appeared:
a final, gentle tap
shatters my windows
My rainbow world
now smothered, pallid,
forced into boredom and slumber,
sunlight chased away
and I am never the same again…
Soul gets plunged deep in the cold
blinded by whiteness, numbed with simplicity
there is an eerie stillness,
almost as if no one dared to breathe,
even the barren trees refused to quiver
brittle dendrites seem to claw the sky
futile though, for they are frozen,
grasping at nothingness,
clouds stubborn and stoic,
brooding in silent grayness
…and then from within, a filigreed whisper escapes
palpable and brave~
it weaves its way through the branches,
gathering strength wherever it went
it beckons to the sky, which in turn
gives in and celebrates ~
letting dainty confetti fall
white, yet amazingly graceful
each flake falls softly on the ground—
a fashionable brocade
trees softly sway now,
and dance to a winter song
the sky weeps with happiness
for seeing a glimpse of life—
they catch a bit of evasive sunlight,
of which I thought I’ve lost
and give birth to miniature rainbows…
all this time, Sunlight was there
an audio of me reciting this poem
Copyright © kabuteng P.iNk k. | Year Posted 2011
I lay down
A lazy Sunday afternoon
The first winds from the north
Blowing snow like a blanket upon our souls
I fall asleep, in a haze of dreams
Where there she appears and forgive the obvious
The woman of my dreams
Never undressed, mind nor body
Here, in my delusion I beg for her heart
Tears roll down upon her chest
I whisper softly, tell me, tell me
You are my twin, in coldness and the dark
Entwined, we breathe slowly in silence
Words have flowed like the tears of the past
I hold on, in love, in desperation, in ecstasy
I caress her hair, and whisper be mine
Then I awoke, another sad day
Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2014
Oh summer what have you done to me
so many flirtatious winks teasingly
undressing me with every wisp of
a welcomed heat filled breath
Oh summer, oh how you melt me
with those gazing sunrise eyes blinking
and those sweet high noon kisses swimming
fogging up another afternoon aviator sky
Oh summer your warm touches caress
and I'm a mess blushing into a golden
bronze affair wondering when you're not there
if you will ever come back again
Oh summer your nights delight with fire
and a backyard breeze harmony underneath
a blanket of stars and a lemonade moon
hushed I swoon knowing I'm in love
Copyright © Tim Smith | Year Posted 2017
. Beneath a blanket of earth
With a pillow made of stone
Her child eternally sleeps
. While at the foot of his bed
She stands alone
And weeps! And weeps! And weeps!
. Written: November 20th, 2009
Author: Elaine George
Copyright © Elaine George | Year Posted 2009
Young love is pure - like snow when fallen new -
and always I’ll recall one wondrous day!
Through dawn, soft powder fell; clouds lingered grey
until mid-morning. Splendid sun shone through
the gloom, and sky turned periwinkle blue!
Excited, we ran laughing, out to play
in snow, which all around us brightly lay.
But never did I guess what would ensue. . .
You chased me, until breathless, we both dropped
onto a blanket of sheer white, and then
a snowflake touched my mouth. Your fingertips
began to trace its shape, until you stopped. . .
Your gaze became intense, and that is when
you bent to kiss the snowflake from my lips.
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2010
Assorted spring flowers, naked, rise in morning sun
Breaking through a thin blanket of snow, earth spun.
Cascades of dainty Narcissus smile with golden faces
Drinking up the sun as morning warmth embraces.
Enjoy the heavenly floral scent that gardens bring.
Fledglings high in tree nests sense that it is spring.
Growing fast they will soon gain courage to take flight,
Hovering low over canopies, it is their birthright!
Irises spring forth in hopes to match the sky
Just as daffodils claim the colors of sun’s eye.
Keep the cherry blossom's imprint in your mind
Leaving memories of pink poetic petals that you find.
Moments spent in this season’s refreshing rain
Nurture and inspire a poet’s muse again.
Only spring can coax the lovely lilac’s bloom
Perfuming breezes, singing springtime’s tune.
Quaint bird houses dot the country lanes
Rewarding visions viewed through window panes.
Spring reclaims our joyful mood as winter ends,
Treating us to vivid colors this season sends.
Uncloaking animals in snowy hibernation,
Verdant becomes the blessings of vegetation.
Wealth is seen in all the colors of sweet spring
Xylogenous creatures in forests are welcoming.
Yellowthroat warblers singing in trees greet melting snow.
Zephyr’s enchant, as they scatter blossoms down below.
© Connie Marcum Wong
Contest A Poem You Are proud of
April 13, 2016
February 21, 2015
Abecedarian - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Shadow Hamilton
Copyright © Connie Marcum Wong | Year Posted 2015
Memories of the North Sea
sift in like sand kernels
on a fast, frigid tide:
events that transpired outside
the confines of rhyme,
as they were meant to.
Never before had I seen
so many shades of gray;
the overcast, monochromatic splendor
instead of being bleak and bleary.
The smell of salt and seaweed
awakes something dormant and eternal,
deep within me.
I have a surging desire
to flush stagnancy from my blood—
salty blood and water
come together in a communion
of distant relations and movements.
Beside me, a flash of bright red
digs in the sand; my child
is wearing the only vibrant colour
to be seen for many kilometres.
The colour matches her
enthusiasm and energy,
as she moves from one spot to the next
like a dancing flame;
reflected, a fire glows from my eyes.
Unknowingly, I had dressed
in the same colours of the sky and sea,
blending into the scenery
like a chameleon:
an illusion thicker than the clouds;
an illusion of stone
for me to melt and reinvent
at the spinning speed of thought.
I watch my daughter
drink the seascape with a smile of wonder;
it's her first time visiting an ocean.
With our pants rolled up to the knee,
we wade through waves,
and collect stones and shells.
She knows the chameleon
who walks alongside her in the frothy surf.
Observing seabirds cover the steep cliffs
of the island located further out,
in a blanket of black and white feathers,
I wonder if people onshore
only see a solitary dash of red out here,
or if the chameleon
is more noticeable than I had thought.
2012 North Sea Remix
December 17th, 2012
Copyright © Chris D. Aechtner | Year Posted 2012